She pressed her hands into his chest and shoved him against the wall. “God dammed, why can’t you just say it Sirius?! It's not 'that thing', it's a child! Our child"

A grave mistake in the Marauders 7th year leads to a plethora of problems, including denial, hatred, and regret. As Voldemort's power is rising two teens have to make a decision between what is right and easy

Silent tears ran down Isabelle’s face as she pulled herself back into the present. She knew that reminiscing and playing the scenes of the past six months over and over in her head wouldn’t change her current situation, if anything, it would just upset her even more. She curled up in her four-posted bed holding her stomach and wanted, ever so dearly, for all her troubles to disappear. Isabelle turned her vision to what used to be her favorite mirror; the mirror was now cracked down the center and an old blanket was carelessly thrown over it. Mirrors were the only thing that showed her for what she truly was and for the past five months she avoided them like the plague.

Professor Dumbledore was notified immediately of Isabelle’s predicament and she was soon after called up to his office for tea. Isabelle had taken great pride in never being called into Dumbledore’s office before this moment and even though she was petrified of being there she convinced herself that she could handle talking to Dumbledore one-on-one—that is until she sat down in the office and realized that Professor McGonagal and Madame Mirr would also be present.

The four of them sat in the office for a few minutes, each waiting for another to talk before Dumbledore cleared his throat and asked Isabelle if she wanted a lemon drop. She then automatically burst into tears, saying how truly sorry she was and how she really didn’t have any idea what she was going to do, or how she was going to handle it.

Professor McGonagal sat straighter in her chair and wrinkled her nose. “Well, I sympathize with you, Isabella, but being sorry isn’t enough—“

She would’ve continued into a lecture on how Isabelle should’ve thought before she acted if Dumbledore hadn’t intervened. “Minerva, the damage is done, and we can all trust that Isabelle genuinely didn’t mean for this to happen. It’s near pointless to sit here and talk about what she should’ve done, or how the situation could’ve been avoided. The point of this meeting, now, is to figure out what will be done in the future.” He turned his sights back on Isabelle, “I venture that you want to keep the child?”

Isabelle hadn’t even thought of the answer to that question, she had only thought about the mistake that she made and how it would ruin her life and her reputation. “I guess, I couldn’t imagine giving it up—I mean, I’m not sure.”

“That is fine,” Professor Dumbledore answered. “You have sufficient time to make that decision, it may be too much for right now. With the hopes to keep this meeting brief, there are a few more matters that need to be discussed. Firstly, I would like to know who the father is.”

“I’d rather not say,” Isabelle replied without even thinking. It was embarrassing to be in this situation in the first place, let alone bring someone else into it as well. The weird part was, though, that she was keeping the secret so Sirius wouldn’t be involved—why was she sticking up for him, surely he didn’t warrant it.

Dumbledore watched Isabelle for a moment and popped a lemon drop into his mouth. “I will respect that,” he told her even though Isabelle knew that everyone in the room knew who the father was.

Dumbledore was kind enough not to badger her about the paternity of the father, but there were other matters that were just as pressing. Even though the conversation was supposed to be brief the four still talked for over an hour. In the end, it was agreed to keep the child a secret from Isabelle’s parents until she decided to tell them when she was out of school. The only basis for this decision was the fact that Isabelle was already seventeen and considered an adult in the magical world. With a little help from Madame Mirr, Isabelle would be able to hide her pregnant figure with weekly doses of a potion. The only way to see what Isabelle truly looked like was through a mirror. Sadly, all teachers would be informed of Isabelle’s condition because of the unavoidable morning sickness and mood swings.

The only people that knew of the situation were the teachers, the Marauders and Lily; they all did their best to keep it a secret even if it meant blocking her from mirrors as they walked through the corridors.

“Isabelle, you broke this mirror too?” Lily lightly questioned. She had just walked back into the dormitory carrying a tray of food for Isabelle since she had refused to come down to dinner that night. She put the tray on her bed and started to tidy up the room. “Have you talked to Sirius?” she asked, knowing what the answer was but still trying to remind both of them that at one time or another they would have to talk.

“As a matter of fact, I have,” Isabelle coolly answered as she could see Lily’s demeanor perk up.

“Well—“

Isabelle moved her fork nonchalantly through her mashed potatoes. “He asked me to pass the butter.”

Lily had been trying to get Sirius and Isabelle to talk to each other for the past six months and her attempts had been fruitless, so far, but she wasn’t the type to be giving up just yet. She was convinced that each, in their own way, was suffering from a severe case of denial.

She cleared her throat and started to fold Isabelle’s clothes. Isabelle had given up on tidying up her room and basically left everything where it was. Lily, on the other hand, hated messes and cleaned up after Isabelle. Usually she would’ve never put up with tidying up after a friend, but these were special circumstances. In fact, she really had put up with a lot over the past six months. Isabelle was proving to be a very difficult pregnant teenager. Her morning sickness, in the beginning, was almost unmanageable; Isabelle could barely get out of bed in the morning. Her cravings were extremely odd; the first five months all she could eat were grapes, but now she hated grapes with a passion and all she wanted was vanilla frosting. Lily, like a good friend, helped Isabelle out as much as she could without making a scene so other people would never find out. To be quite honest, though, she really couldn’t wait until these nine months were over.

Lily was about to say something to Isabelle along the lines of her usual lecture of how she and Sirius should definitely talk like mature adults when there was a knock at the door. Isabelle flicked her wand and the door opened to reveal Sirius’ right hand man, James Potter.

He was holding a Daily Prophet as he rushed in; he looked quite frantic. “Again, another one, Lily! I can’t believe this anymore, fifteen murders in two days!”

Fifteen murders was an unusually high number, it was usually four or five. The wizarding world, as well as the muggle world, were becoming inundated with news of a so called ‘Dark Lord’ that was on the rise throughout Europe. The muggle world believed him to be a part of a religious cult and the Ministry agreed to let them believe their theory, in fact, they even egged it on a bit. The Ministry of Magic was forced to realize that this wasn’t the act of a cult, but of a wizard. Through further digging it was revealed that this Dark Lord was a young wizard by the name of Tom Riddle. Tom Riddle, upon graduating Hogwarts set off across the world in search of the darkest magic that he could possibly find. Along his way he also gathered followers, he now called these followers his Death Eaters and he also dubbed himself Lord Voldemort. Voldemort and his followers were now wreaking havoc on all of Europe and slowly starting to branch out into Asia.

There were over two-hundred murders, to date, and the number was constantly growing. Not all were murdered by Voldemort, of course, but it was under his command. It now became a ritual to read the Daily Prophet from cover to cover in search of any information that they could possibly get their hands on, as well as the names of people that were either missing or dead. So far, ten students at Hogwarts were directly affected by one of the murders that Voldemort committed.

Lily shook her head and sat down on her bed. “Anyone that we know?” she queried, like she did everyday.

“Thankfully not,” James piped in. “It’s more the principle of the thing, Lily. We’re graduating and this is what we’re going to be thrust out into; a world filled with chaos, contempt, confusion, convolution…”

Lily couldn’t help but smile. “Stop being so melodramatic, James. You know as well as I do that we’ll deal with it.”

James closed the Daily Prophet and put it down on the foot of Isabelle’s bed. “I don’t know if you’ve read today’s paper. There are a few articles that are quite good, I don’t know if you’re interested.” James sounded quite ridiculous when in fact all he was trying to do was attempt, in his own way, to make Isabelle feel better. He felt, dare he say, guilty about the whole situation. Sirius was his best friend and yet he couldn’t manage to get him to talk to Isabelle for anything. Whenever he brought up the subject Sirius would conjure up impermeable ear plugs and stuff them in his ears or play music so loud that it was virtually impossible to hear James speak.

“Thank you,” Isabelle answered in a meek voice. She hadn’t been the same around James, Peter or Remus since the ‘accident’. She wasn’t unpleasant or anything, but she just mainly kept to herself.

“JAMES POTTER,” a voice screamed. There were a series of extremely large thumps; someone was climbing up the stairs. Sirius appeared at Lily and Isabelle’s door, “Prongs—,” he began, panting, but immediately stopped dead in his tracks when he realized that Isabelle was in the room.

Everyone was automatically silent and Sirius and Isabelle stared at each other. They didn’t say a word, but you could see Sirius’ jaw tighten and Isabelle’s eyes fill with rage. Lily and James were caught in the middle discreetly looking at each other in hopes that the other had an idea of what to say, but nothing surfaced.

Isabelle took the initiative and made the first move; she closed the curtains around her bed to block everyone in the room from view. Sirius, though, looked as if there wasn’t a curtain drawn. His eyes still stared intently on the drapery with the same amount of anger as moments earlier. All of a sudden though, his jaw unclenched and he released his fingers from digging into the palm of his hand.

“Why is the mirror broken?” Sirius questioned as if nothing had just happened. Lily began to say something but Sirius cut her off. “Oh, Isabelle and that thing, right, yeah—“

The drapes around Isabelle’s four posted bed flew open in a fury. She jumped off the bed and made her way right towards Sirius. Usually people stop when they’re in front of the person they want to speak with, but Isabelle kept going until she reached Sirius, pressed her hands into his chest and shoved him against the wall. “God dammed, why can’t you just say it Sirius?! It’s not that thing, it’s a child! Our child!”

Lily and James crept towards the door silently so neither would realize that they were leaving. Sirius was left absolutely speechless and trying to string together a few words to verbalize his feelings. His worst fear, his denial, the thing he was trying to avoid for months was now standing right in front of his face and there was no avoiding it, there was no running from it anymore and no more ridiculous excuses to hide behind.

Tears started to stream down Isabelle’s face. Her hands were still on Sirius’ chest pushing him into the wall. She moved them slightly and so that she gripped his robes tightly. Isabelle looked up at him and stared at him straight in the eyes. “Say something,” she pleaded.

A/N: Terribly sorry about the shortness of the last chapter. Hopefully this one will make up for it. Thank you so much for the reviews, it means so much—honestly. As for Lily snapping at Sirius, it’s like anyone who is extremely frustrated—they say things that they don’t necessarily mean. I hope to crack the mold with Lily Evans; she’s a kind and genuine person, but she’s normal and she has flaws. As for Sirius’ behavior, it can be viewed as denial. There is one paragraph in there that takes a psychological spin on the situation—how he’s unable to cope and deal when he’s never really had to do that before. I want to make the characters as realistic as I possibly can, well, besides the fact that they can do magic.